


Presents

by Natale_Noelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Revenge, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natale_Noelle/pseuds/Natale_Noelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa's parents died shortly after her sister's birth. Robb and Jon were adopted by family friends, and Arya by strangers that lived across the country, but Sansa wasn't. She was shuffled from one horrific home to the next. Only one thing kept her going through the worst of times, the presents. Sansa owes her life to the sender, but there's one problem. She doesn't know his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Name

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read there are a few things you should know.
> 
> 1\. Lysa Arryn is not related in anyway to Catelyn Stark  
> 2\. Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon, and Ned Stark don't know each other  
> 3\. Jon Snow is Lyanna and Rheagar's son
> 
> There might be a few more, but if there are I forgot them. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Sansa sat with her back up against her door, watching the elevator with determination. She was waiting for him, the old man. She’d only done this twice before, and she was certain he would be surprised to see her. Three times every year Sansa would watch through her peephole as the man dropped off a present from _him_. Who _he_  was, was a complete mystery to her. All she knew is that she had been receiving a present three times a year for as long as she could remember, and that the sender was a man. That little bit of information was accidentally given to her by the very same old man she was waiting for. For sixteen years she never once asked for _his_  name, hoping _he_  would find her, but _he_  never did. Despite everything that had happened, despite all _he_  had done for her, _he_  never came to her. That’s why Sansa was sitting with her legs curled up against her chest in a way too cold hallway, waiting. Several hours ticked by as she waited. People, her neighbors, silently judged her as they passed. She could see it in their eyes, but she refused to let it deter her. She _had_  to know. Her eyes never left the elevator doors. Hope and excitement surged through her every time the doors opened. But once she saw who was behind the doors the hope and excitement died. As even more time passed Sansa found her eyes growing heavy. She tried to fight the tiredness, but she was losing. Her eyes finally shut and she fell asleep.

Suddenly Sansa wasn’t sitting in the hallway outside her apartment, but sitting on the cold stone steps of her early childhood. Snow flew around her, landing and melting in her bright red hair. It was completely silent except for the light howling of the wind. She was shivering violently, the cold was finally getting to her after a few hours. Sansa was clothed in nothing but a light sleeping gown and slippers. It was the middle of winter. Her cheeks were flushed red and her nose was running. Tears were frozen on the pale skin of her face. Every ounce of her screamed for her to run back inside and give up, but she couldn’t. Sansa was frozen to the step, not from the melted snow all around her, but from fear. Fear of what would happen if she returned to her room. Fear that she would never leave. It covered her like a thick blanket. The sound of glass breaking ripped through her ears. She knew that her absence had been discovered, and by the worst possible person.

 _Sansa!_  

His voice was angry, so very angry.

 _Sansa!_  

She forced herself to stay put.

 _Sansa!_  

His voice was louder, he was getting closer. Sansa kept her eyes locked onto the big black gates so close to her, but so far away.

 _Sansa!_  

As if out of nowhere she saw it, a figure moving quickly through the falling snow. She jumped up, and ran as fast as she could toward him. When she was close enough she threw herself onto him, the old man.

_Help me! Help me, please! Please you have to take me away! I hate it here! He hurts me. Please take me to the sender is. They have to help me!_

The man didn’t say a word, but gave her a look that was full of pity. That look was all she needed to lose hope. She let go of him and crumbled to the floor.

_Please._

The word came out as barely a whisper, but he heard it.

_I can’t take you. But, I’ll tell him. I promise._

Sansa lifted her head and he saw there were tears in her eyes, but she looked almost happy.

_Thank you._

The man turned away and disappeared.

_Sansa!_

She turned her head and saw her worst nightmare running towards her.

_Sansa!_

She looked up to the sky and mouthed the words, _thank you._ Suddenly a large hand grabbed her.

“Sansa?” Her eyes flew open, and her whole body tensed at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. She forced herself to calm when she finally realized the man in front of her wasn’t Ramsay. It took a few moments of taking in the man’s wind burnt face, hooked nose, crooked teeth, and white hair before she realized who it was.

“Oswell.” She stated, meeting his concerned eyes.

“Ma’am?” Concern still painted on his tired features.

“It was only a dream.” She stood up abruptly, causing him to stumble backward slightly.

“You were shivering.” Her answer obviously wasn’t enough.

“It was a cold dream.” Sansa’s expression and tone made it blatantly clear she didn’t wish to talk about it. He backed off. Several moments of awkward silence followed. When Sansa made no move to end it, he did, by handing her a small box.

“Well, happy birthday.” He said the words quickly, turning around as soon as they were said. Oswell was a step from the elevator when her voice stopped him.

“Thank you for the present.” She said knowing exactly what his answer would be. He gave her a smile before responding.

“That’s not from me. It’s from _him_.”

“Oh I know, but still thank you.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t deserve the thanks.”

“Still, thank you.” She pushed his button.

“You know what? What would you like for a present? I can’t stand getting thanks for something I don’t deserve.”

_Ya, I know._

“This way I’ll deserve it. I’ll go get it and bring it back later today.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to.”

“In that case…” She paused to make it seem like she was thinking. “What I want, you can give to me now.” His eyebrows raised in silent question. Sansa looked down at the wrapped box in her hand. “What’s his name?” She still hadn’t lifted her gaze. A defeated sigh left his mouth.

“You know I can’t tell you.”

“Please! That’s all I want. I don’t even want whatever this is.” Sansa threw the small box behind her shoulder. It hit the door behind her with a loud thud. “See?”

“He told me not to.” Oswell was clearly having an internal battle with himself. “I wish I could tell you, I really do…” He trailed off.

“I’ve never asked before. Not once.”

“I know.” Oswell sounded defeated.  
“I’m not going to go look for him. I just want a peace of mind. I promise.” She lied. Sansa looked him straight in the eye and gave him the best pouty face she could.

“Fine.” Her face lit up right away.

“Thank you so much!”

“I’m gonna lose my job for this.” He muttered, and gave one last sigh. “Petyr.” Oswell forced the name out.

“Petyr.” She echoed, exploring the taste of the name on her mouth as she said it.

“Baelish. Petyr Baelish.”

_Petyr Baelish? Why does that sound vaguely familiar?_

“Thank you so much.” After those words there was silence. Neither one said a word or made a sound for what seemed like ages. A beep from the elevator, signalling new arrivals, broke the silence. After the people had gotten off, he smiled lightly.

“I should be off. Have a wonderful day, Ms. Stark.” Giving her a slight nod of his head, Oswell turned around and boarded the elevator.

“Thank you again. Oswell.” On his name the doors completely shut leaving Sansa mostly to herself. She took a few steps backwards until she felt the wall up against her back. Her hands ran through her hair as she slumped against the wallpapered wall.

_I did it! I know his name!_

A smile spread wildly on her face. Despite how happy she was, Sansa couldn’t help the lingering feeling of guilt. She had no idea what kind of person Petyr Baelish was, but she had the suspicion he wouldn’t take kindly to Oswell telling her his name. Why he wanted to hide that fact from her was and had always been a complete mystery.

Sansa was ripped from her conflicting thoughts by the words ** _welcome to the jungle we got fun and games, we got everything you want honey_** playing quite loudly from her pocket.

_Arya?_

Her phone was dug out of her pocket with haste, it was answered on the third ring.

“Hey, Arya?”

“Sup. I called to say happy birthday.” Arya’s voice had hint of desperation. Although Sansa was thrilled to hear from her sister, she didn’t really believe Arya’s reason for calling. They weren’t very close. Most of that was due to the fact that they only met a little more than a year ago. They were polar opposites, both of them still found it hard to believe they were sisters. Calling to say happy birthday wasn’t something that Arya did, or at least that’s what Sansa assumed.

“Thank you. Now why did you really call?” She decided to be blunt. She had found being blunt worked much better with Arya.

“That obvious?”

“Yes.” Sansa laughed as she picked up the discarded present.

“Can I crash at your place tonight?” By the time Arya was done asking her question, Sansa was already inside her apartment locking her door.

“Of course you can. Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“We got in a fight again, but this time Gendry wouldn’t see that I’m right. He’s really mad, and we kinda agreed to stay away from each other for the night. To let our heads cool you know?” Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Ya. What time are you planning on coming over?”

“Umm…”

“Arya?”

“I’m kind of outside of your building.”

“Arya! Of course you are. Not much for making plans are you?”

“Hey! I asked didn’t I?”

“I’m willing to bet if I had said no you would’ve come anyway.”

“Maybe.” Sansa rolled her eyes again.

“Okay. Come on up. The bell-hop should know you by now.” Without another word Arya hung up the phone. Arya wasn’t one for formalities. Sansa sighed in both relief and frustration as she plopped herself on the couch.

_Well, there goes my plans. What plans?_

She laughed to herself.

_At least I’ll have company this year. Even if it is Arya. Speaking of this year..._

Her eyes trailed to the dented present sitting on her coffee table. She had been lying when she said she didn’t want the present _he_  gave her. The _he_  who finally had a name, Petyr Baelish. Without a second thought she tore off the golden paper to reveal a baby blue box with the small engraved word Tiffany & Co.. Inside the box was the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen. It had a silver chain with a simple pendent. The pendent was mainly a deep purple stone cut like a teardrop with diamonds circling it, it was connected to the chain by several smaller stones of the same purple color that formed a diamond shape, and inside the diamond shape was another actual diamond. Sansa couldn’t breathe, she was blown away. He had never given her something nearly as beautiful, and surely as expensive as that. She figured that even the five-grand he transferred into her bank account, every month, paled in comparison to the price of the necklace.

Driven by an unknown force Sansa grabbed the box and slowly walked into her room and drew back the curtains covering the wall of her room that was pure glass. She blinked wildly as the bright sunlight spread through the room. Still slightly blinded Sansa went to her full sized mirror. A long pale hand moved all her hair to one shoulder. She watched herself in a sort of daze as she clasped the necklace around her neck. Sansa’s eyes widened as she realized the stone had changed colors, now it was green. She briefly glanced at her hand still holding the box when she noticed the note.

**_Happy nineteenth birthday, sweetling._ **

He had never left a note before.


	2. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made a major change. I changed Sansa's age. Let me explain why.  
> I had a very clear idea of where to go with this story to a certain point, but after that I was lost. But then I got to thinking. It would make more sense if Sansa went searching for Petyr right after high school. And I had the BEST idea to go with it. So I'm rolling with it. I think you guys will like it better, I know I do!
> 
> So now she is nineteen. She just graduated high school. Her birthday is in the summer.

Sansa was sitting on her bed still in a daze. She was mindlessly fingering the elegant necklace around her neck. Her thoughts were in chaos, she couldn’t focus on anything except him. Sansa tried to picture him, his face, his voice, his eyes, everything. But the more she tried to picture him the worse the image would become. He started as a beautiful young man barely older than her with blonde hair, and blue eyes; then eventually became a fat creepy man in his fifties with a wart on his chin.

_Oh, please let him be decently young. Oh, and please let him be attractive. Please no wart!_

Shaking his ever worsening image of him out of her mind she tried to think of the not so physical parts of him. What he did for a living, where he lived, his hobbies, what his family looks like, if he even has one. Those images didn’t deteriorate like before. They ingrained themselves into her mind.

She wanted to meet him more than anything else in the world. And now she had the power to do so, but she was scared. Sansa was worried that he wouldn’t live up to her dreams and expectation. She was even worried that she wouldn’t live up to his.

“Sansa! What are you doing?” Arya’s voice startled Sansa so much that she jumped. When she hit the bed she fell back onto it and started laughing.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

“The door was unlocked.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“You gave me a key.”

“No I didn’t.”

“I picked the lock.” Arya admitted.

“Of course you did.” Sansa rolled her eyes.

“I knocked like a million times, but you didn’t open the door!”

“Sorry about that.” Sansa said distantly as she touched her necklace.

“Is that from him?” Arya asked, her eyes staring at Sansa’s neck.

“Petyr.”

“What?”

“His name is Petyr. Petyr Baelish.” Arya’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my god! You did it! Have you looked him up yet?”

“No.” Sansa’s eyes fell to the floor.

“What!? Come on we’ll do it right now!” Arya grabbed Sansa’s arm and yanked her. Suddenly she stopped. “Holy shit Sansa!”

“What?” Sansa followed Arya’s gaze.

“Do you know what that is?” She nodded to Sansa’s necklace?

“A necklace?” Sansa offered sarcastically.

“The stone.”

“No idea.”

“It’s Alexandrite. He gave you fucking Alexandrite!”

“Oh my god.” Sansa felt like the air had been punched from her.

“Damn, this guy is loaded.” Sansa didn’t respond. “Where is your laptop?” Arya asked while half running around the living room. Sansa pointed at the kitchen table.

“I totally knew that, I was just testing you.” That made Sansa smile.

“Of course you were.” Her smile faded. “I’m so stupid.”

“Huh?” Arya plopped right next to Sansa.

“How are we supposed to know if it’s actually him? What if someone else has the same name? I should have asked for more! Now I can’t! Oswell’s probably going to get fired! I’ll never see him again!” She felt hopeless, so much that she was practically in tears.

“Don’t cry. I don’t like tears. Stop.” Arya looked uncomfortable. “You’re fine.”

“How Arya? How?” Sansa snapped.

“Umm… If more than one person pops up all we have to do is find out who’s ridiculously rich.”

“What if they’re both rich?” Sansa pleaded.

“Oh, come on. I seriously doubt there’s more than one filthy rich Petyr Baelish.”

“But…”

  
“Please stop. I don’t like being the reasonable one. Stop acting like a little girl!” Sansa’s back straightened at her sister’s words.

_She’s right I am acting like a little girl. That’s the old Sansa, not me._

“Sorry.” She opened her laptop, and started typing his name into google.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m googling him.” Sansa stated matter of factly.

“I know a better way!”

“Is it legal?”

“Yes.” Arya’s voice was a bit shaky.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s not illegal, it’s just frowned upon.”

“No. We’ll do it this way.”

“But…!” Arya protested.

“No buts. Anyway this is basically none of your business so be happy I’m letting you help.” Arya murmured something under her breath, but Sansa just ignored her. After pressing enter she shoved the laptop onto Arya’s lap. “You look first! What if he’s fat and old!?”

“Fine. I’ll describe him to you.”

“Thank you.” Arya looked back at the computer and did some clicking around before speaking again.

“I found him! It has to be him! Yep, he’s filthy rich.” Sansa could’ve sworn her heart was going to burst it was beating so fast.

“Tell me!”

“He’s like in his late thirties, early forties.” Sansa’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, get over it. It actually makes sense.” She had to agree. “He’s not that ugly, actually he’s decently attractive, although he’s got nothing on Gendry.”

"Does he have a wart?"

"What!? No?"

Sansa snatched the laptop from Arya’s lap. What she saw surprised her. He was attractive, even if his age was showing a bit in his greying hair. He didn’t even remotely fit any of Sansa’s previous ideas of him. She didn’t know weather to upset or glad. Even through a picture she felt drawn to his grey-green eyes. He was smiling, but his eyes weren’t. Sansa studied his picture in fascination for a bit longer before exiting out of the picture so she could learn about him. She laughed aloud when she saw that he had a wikipedia page about him. Of course she clicked on the link.

“Oh my god!” Sansa couldn’t believe her eyes.

“What!?” Arya demanded.

“He teaches at Westeros University!”

“So?” Arya was obviously confused.

“I’m going there in less than a week! Hold up!” Sansa suddenly ran to her room and then back to the couch. She thrust a paper into Arya’s face. “Look at this! Oh my god! I have a class with him!”

“Holy shit, Sansa!” Arya paused. “Now that’s awkward.”

Sansa’s mind was reeling. She was going to meet him in less than a week! And she didn’t even have to search him out. Would he have told her who he was? Or would he have pretended not to know her? Her biggest dream was coming true, but she couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared he would reject her once he met her. Scared that he would be mad that she tricked Oswell into telling her his name. Regret gripped her tightly. Eventually she came to a resolve. She wouldn’t tell him she knew he was her mystery sender. She would hope he wouldn’t bring it up. Sansa would act like she knew nothing, and learn who he was before she admitted to her knowledge. She could only hope that Oswell didn’t rat her out. That he feared for his job enough to keep his gift to her a secret. It was a flimsy hope, but it was all she had.


	3. Plan

Sansa and Arya spent the rest of the night researching. Their efforts yielded practically nothing. All they were able to learn was that Petyr Baelish was a forty year-old professor with several side businesses, but the nature of those businesses eluded them. Arya got so frustrated with how little they found that she threw Sansa’s laptop. It hit Sansa’s wall length window, and the screen cracked. Naturally a fight of epic proportions erupted between the two.

“What the hell Arya?” Sansa shouted.

“I didn’t mean to break it!” Arya tried to defend herself.

“What the heck was supposed to happen? Land on a pile of pillows?”

“I didn’t think it…”

“Exactly you weren’t thinking! Next time break your own stuff!” Interrupted Sansa.

“At least you have stuff to break! Just go buy a new one with your creepy present sender guy’s money!”

“Creepy? Seriously? You live with a man who wears makeup!”

“It’s for disguises!”

“Oh right, I forgot he’s a con-man. So much better than wearing makeup.”

“He’s not a con-man! He’s an as...” Arya suddenly stopped, and had a mortified  expression plastered on her face. “Whatever, he’s off on a job!”

“Ya, I know, and being the responsible guardian he is, he left you with Gendry! Just a wonderful idea!”

“It’s better than being here with you!”

“Oh, really? Then why did you coming running here?” Sansa snickered.

“At least I have someone!” Sansa didn’t say a word she just glared at Arya, trying to ignore the sting of those words. “You’re just a spoiled brat! Oh look at me!” Arya started walking with exaggerated hip swaying and her hand sticking out, and bent. “I’m so special because I have a rich man giving me money and fucking Alexandrite necklaces!”

“I’m starting to think you’re jealous!” Sansa taunted with a smirk.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous of you? I at least have a family.”

“Oh, such a great family!” Sansa spat, covering her hurt.

“Better than yours! Wait you don’t have one! No one wanted you!” The moment the words were out of Arya’s mouth a look of regret swept over her face. “Oh my god! I’m so…” Before she could finish Sansa did something very out of character for her. She attacked Arya. One moment Arya was standing behind the coffee table, and Sansa was sitting on the coach, and the next they were rolling on the broken table.

“Get off of me!” Sansa screamed once she realized Arya was winning.

“You started it!” Arya shrieked, just as she finished speaking she yanked Sansa’s red hair.

“Ow! Stop!” Sansa was finally able to push Arya off her.

“I wish I never met you! I should have pretended not to know you! I wish you hadn’t com…”

“Oh my god, Arya!” Sansa gasped excitedly. She ran over to her sister and embraced her. “You’re a genius!” Sansa pecked her cheek before backing away from a very confused Arya.

“Excuse me! I was trying to yell at you!”

“Ya, ya. I know.” Arya was still dumbfounded. “Fine finish.” Sansa waved her hand as she fell on the couch quite elegantly.

“I wish you… ha, ha, ha!” Arya couldn’t contain her laughter. Suddenly they were both on the couch laughing. They seemed to have both cooled significantly. Their laughter eventually died and when it did they were hugging.

“I… I’m… so...sorry. I shouldn’t...” Arya paused for second, “I shouldn’t have said that.” She struggled to get the words out of her mouth.

“That was pretty hard wasn’t it?” There was a playful tone to Sansa’s words.

“Hey! I’m trying!”

“Ya, I know. Thank you, I know you didn’t really mean it.”

“Good! Even though you make me want to punch you sometimes, you are my only family. By blood I mean.”

“Glad to know I have that effect. What about Robb?” Sansa questioned.

“He cares more about getting his ‘birth-right’ and his stupid wife, then even trying to get to know me!” Sansa could understand her pain, Robb had been doing the same to her, mostly, but unlike Arya, Sansa actually related to Robb. The opposite was true with their cousin Jon. Sansa and Jon didn’t exactly see eye to eye, and as a result they were quite happy with never interacting with each other. Arya and Jon on the other hand were thick as thieves. They had barely known each other a month before they starting acting like they had know each other their entire lives. Sansa and Robb had a very different relationship than Arya and Jon. Theirs was less of a sibling relationship, and more of a distant friend kind of relationship. One in which they _would_ talk, but never about anything substantial. Robb wasn’t one for deep conversations, and Sansa preferred to keep her thoughts buried deep inside.

“Well, he’s just an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“True, but that doesn’t make it any less the truth.”

“Whatever. So…” Arya’s eye caught that mischievous glint in them again. “What is this thing that makes you finally realize my genius?”

“It’s simple really.” Arya waved her on. “I’m going to pretend I’m still ignorant. I want to get to know him without out sixteen years of unexplained presents weighing over us.”

“I thought it would be something more exciting.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Sarcasm dripping off every word. A yawn escaped Sansa’s lips. “I’m going to bed, see you in the morning.” Both she and Arya starting walking towards their respective rooms. Arya spent so much time at Sansa’s that she had her own room. “Hold up! Arya you’re cleaning that mess tonight or the second you wake up.”

“Ugh! Fine when I wake up.”

Sansa quickly retreated to her room, and performed her nightly ritual. She undressed, took a long hot shower, redressed in her standard night wear: a tanktop, and short shorts, then jumped into bed. She just laid there fingering her brand new necklace, thinking. For some reason the necklace was comforting in it’s grandeur.

_I’m never taking this off._

Was her last thought before she plummeted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really appreciate it if you guys left comments because they help me get better, and make me want to post more.
> 
> I wouldn't have changed Sansa's age had it not been for the comments. Because I did I feel this story will be much better.


	4. Through the Glass

**_Slam!_** Sansa shot straight up. Her eyes darted back and forth trying to locate the source of the disturbance. Her eyes couldn’t find it, but her mind did. 

_ Arya! God damn it! _

Sansa had half a mind to chase her down, but that would require getting up, and she just couldn’t get her body to move. Defeated she fell back on her back onto her heavenly soft bed. Very lazily she glanced at the time.  **_6:53._ ** Suddenly she vaulted across her room to her closet. In the blink of an eye she was fully dressed, and frantically trying to make her hair look presentable. Eventually she gave up. Sansa was halfway out the door when she glanced at her almost dead cell-phone. It was saturday. She sighed and dropped her purse dramatically. 

_ Well, now I’m up! Just wonderful! Thanks Arya! _

Yawning, Sansa dragged her feet to the couch, and plopped herself on it. With tired eyes she surveyed the disaster that was her living room. The table was on the far side of the room, shards of broken glass littered the floor, and various objects were spread around, some were broken and others weren’t. She was about to get up to clean when she happened to look through the floor to ceiling window that was one of her living room walls. Sansa had never liked the view from that particular window, for it look straight at the side of another building. Normally the curtains were drawn to prevent prying eyes, but during their fight she and Arya must have accidentally opened the light grey curtains. What she saw surprised her, instead of seeing the glare from the sun on the all glass building, she saw directly through the glass. A man was sitting in a luxurious looking chair behind a desk, all she saw was the back of his black haired head, but she could see the face of the man he was talking to.

The standing man was, from what she could tell, mad. He was talking to the man facing away from her, making wild gestures with his hands. After a few minutes, during which Sansa had moved from the couch to the window, the man facing away from her stood up. There was a moment of stillness, before the man reached down, opened a drawer and grabbed something she could not see. The other man suddenly look frightened. He stared intently as the black haired man withdrew a phone from his pocket and placed it to his ear. The unheard conversation only lasted a few brief seconds. When he put the phone away the other man was slowing backing up. He had his hands together like he was praying. As quick as lightning the black haired man raised his arm holding the object he had retrieved from his desk only a few minutes ago. The next thing Sansa knew was that the fleeing man was laying on the ground, and the other man was putting what she now knew as a gun on the desk. 

Sansa’s heart was racing. Fear coursed through her. She didn’t know what to do, she knew that she should call the police, but Sansa couldn’t bring herself to move an inch. When she focused her attention back on the scene she found it harder to see what was happening inside. The sun was rising, and that glare that she hated so much was returning. But, Sansa was able to see that several men were in the room with the shooter, but they weren’t interacting with him, but dragging the body of the dead man away. When the men were completely gone, and the only person in room was the black haired man, Sansa slowly inched backwards. She stopped when he put his hands in his pockets, and turned around to look through the window. He stared right at her, and smirked. Sansa couldn’t see his face clearly due to the sun, but she did see the smirk. Somehow it seemed vaguely familiar.

Suddenly common sense shot back through her and she dashed to the curtain, and pulled it across the window. She fell to the ground in shock at what she had just witnessed. Sansa couldn’t process it, so she started to clean the mess that had previously seemed so important, but now insignificant. Soon the living room was spotless, but she didn’t stop there she kept cleaning and cleaning. When eventually there was nothing left to clean she sat back on the couch and started back on her embroidery. The rhythmic process of embroidering a wolf allowed her to think.

_ Oh my god! A man just died, and I just stood there and did nothing! Wait a sec. What could have I ever done? I was all the way in another building. What did he do to deserve being shot in the head anyway? Maybe he owed the guy money? No… that doesn’t seem right. Maybe he just got angry and shot the guy? No… that’s not right either. The man didn’t move like he was angry. He moved like it was just business. _

With that simple thought Sansa had the suspicion that this wasn’t the first or last time that man had shot a person in that room. The thought was unsettling. Mostly because all of those killings would’ve occurred just across the street separating the two buildings, where she could’ve seen them if she tried. 

_ Wait. No I couldn’t have. The glare from the wretched sun makes it impossible to see through the window. Today was just a fluke. _

Apart of her was extremely curious. So curious that now she was seriously considering going over to the other building and trying to find some answers to questions she hasn’t even asked yet. But another part of her was so frightened that she wanted to leave. Leave as in get a new apartment. A place far, far away from the man. That part of her was the strongest, but she still didn’t want to leave.

Without thinking she dialed a number she barely remembered. Actually at first she misdialed and got a wrong number. She retyped the number slowly and with care. Sansa started to realized the stupidity of the call she was making, but as she was about to hang up, he answered.

“Hello, this is Robb Stark.”

“Hi.” Sansa weakly whispered.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Robb.” She replied with a bit more conviction.

“Arya…?”

“No.”

“Sansa!”

“Yep.”

“What’s up? Why are you calling?” Robb’s voice sounded curious, but not focused.

Sansa was about to reveal everything to him: the man with the gun, her yearly presents, even her fight with Arya, but something stopped her. Reason. Fear. She just knew he would chalk up everything she had to say as an exaggeration. Sansa just couldn’t, at that moment, bare to not be taken seriously. It had happened to many times, by him, by everyone for her to risk it. She regretted calling him.

“I just wanted to see how you were.” Sansa lied.

“Awesome actually, Roslin’s pregnant!”

Sansa actually recoiled. 

_ What?! They’ve only been married for 3 months! On top of that have only know each other for 7 months! _

“Oh my god! Congratulations! How far along is she?” She feigned excitement.

“Two months! I have no idea how we didn’t notice earlier.”

_ Two months! _

“Wow. I’m so happy for you.”

“I know! I can’t wait!”

_ I can. _ In all honesty, Sansa was excited. Not because Robb was going to be a father, but because of the baby. She’d always wanted one, but had never really interacted with a baby before. She had lived a very restricted life up until recently.

“Have you guys thought of any names yet?”

“Yes actually. If it’s a boy, then Eddard. We haven’t thought of a girl’s name yet.”

Sansa had a feeling that name should put some sad emotion in her, but it just didn’t. She doesn’t have a single memory of her dad.

“That’s so sweet!”

“It was Roslin’s idea.”

“Well, it’s perfect.”

“ _ Ya, ya! Hold on just one sec! _ Sorry about that, Roslin needs me. Talk to you later.”

Robb didn’t even wait for her to respond before hanging up. Sansa sighed, annoyed. Throwing her phone on the far side of the couch, she leaned her head back. She tried to think, but she couldn’t. Eventually she fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you all like chapter 1!  
> I don't know if you guys could tell, but this is my first ever fic.
> 
> Comments are always welcome!
> 
> Points for whoever can guess what song I used for Arya's ringtone. It may be kinda easy.


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